If at first you don't succeed, try try again
by Lojuba
Summary: Falling through time is not a fun experience at all. It's horrible. It hurts and the brainfuck is real. The moment you come out on the other side, thinking you've made it, mustering up the feeling of pride, because hey, how many people can say they've successfully traveled through time? You get blasted by a sensation that can only be described as the fuck-it-all of hangovers.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Time traveling is not for the faint of heart

Falling through time is not a fun experience at all. It's horrible. It hurts and the brainfuck is real. The moment you come out on the other side, thinking you've made it, mustering up the feeling of pride, because hey, how many people can say they've successfully traveled through time? You get blasted by a sensation that can only be described as the fuck-it-all of hangovers. Plus emotional whiplash of going back, of experiencing every moment in seconds felt like a werewolf-strength kind of punch to the gut.

So, coming out on the other side was unglamorous to say the least. Months and weeks of careful planning couldn't have prepared them for the tears-inducing-headache and the puke.

It didn't take Stiles long to figure out where they were. Thank fuck they landed somewhere deep in the preserve. If this would have been the first impression they left on the Hale Pack, it could only have hurt their cause, he thought as he saw beautiful, pristine Lydia retching her breakfast into the next bush.

It took Stiles a long time to organize his thoughts. Time travel has a way of leaving you with this dejected feeling of whatever man just let me vomit out my insides in peace. Which is unfortunate because they had things they needed to do.

First on the agenda was finding out what date they actually arrived on.

"Stiles?" Lydia croaked from the bush.

"Huh?"

"Time travel sucks."

"I agree wholeheartedly."

Personally, he felt 'sucks' was a bit mild for the amazing experience of lying next to your own vomit in absolute dizziness and exhaustion for roughly an hour.

"Think you can move yet, Lyds?"

He asked as he slowly stumbled to his feet his eyes searching for the strawberry blonde. She sat leaning against a huge tree, eyes closed, face in a pinched expression. Stiles didn't need to wait for an answer, standing had helped a lot with the dizziness. So, he slowly approached her, evading his 'puddle' on the way over "Hey Lyds, I'm going to pull you up now. Standing helps with the dizziness." He tries to sound soothing, but it comes out weary.

"That's okay, I'm probably going to throw up on you." She whispered.

He managed to laugh at that. Quietly, because headaches. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Pulling her next to him in standing position and rubbing soothing circles on her back, was apparently the way to go.

"Thank fuck, the world finally stopped spinning." She sighed in relief. "Let's see if our bags made it through with us."

After another heart-warming 10 minutes they got their shit together and made quick work of getting their stuff.

Beacon Hills wasn't exactly a hot spot for hitchhiking, so they walked, which translated to wasting another 3 hours of his life. Thinking back, he should have been more adamant about using this as the absolute last resort.

The pack had been desperate, but they would have survived. They'd been desperate before. Hell, after facing down the Riders of the Storm, shit should have settled, at least for a little while. Enough that they could live their life with a resemblance of normalcy. They had even planned on renting a pack house circumventing the dorm life for something they knew, they'd love, when everything went downhill.

Isaac had come back from France bearings gifts. They were from the last Argents, under the ruse of opening the peace treaty negotiations, they'd gifted them a new form of wolfsbane, one that could, if cultivated under the right circumstances, be the cure all to every wolfsbane bullet, a hunter could possibly use. It was of course too good to be true.

Turns out it was crossbred to be so potent, that the moment they'd opened the box, every wolf in the room turned feral. He had to use every binding spell he ever encountered for that one, burning through his spark like a mad man. Because of their blind disregard for their own wellbeing he had to pull out the advanced shit. Not that mountain ash wasn't dandy, but a wolf that threw itself repeatedly against a strength-based barrier would have a lot of shit to deal with later on. He wouldn't hurt his friends like that.

After that had happened, Lydia, who'd bitten on her forearm in an effort not to scream, took him and the wolfsbane plant of doom to Deaton. The druid quickly determined that this plant was not from the earthly realm and should have never been given to humans, let alone werewolves, which had led them to the frightening conclusion that their friends could not turn back. At least not without the help of the creatures who lived in said mysterious realm, but that had quickly spiraled into different theories about an infinite number of alternate universes. Who could say which one of those the stupid plant came from?

He'd done his research, he knew. No one could. So, following the events of this clusterfuck of a catastrophe, he had decided to turn to magic, which had never let him down.

Lydia had helped, and they quickly discovered that a time travel spell would be the best solution. But how could they decide where to go? No matter where they'd end up, they'd inevitably fuck their own future and there were enough deaths in BH to make choosing a time to return to, into a game of 'who aren't we going to save?'.

It wasn't an easy decision to make, but after fact checking, it quickly became clear that the old Hale pack had been the only pillar of stability that BH had. The next one was trickier, they had to decide which one of them would go. Lydia was their emissary, sure, but against a pack of wolves she was basically defenseless. Stiles on the other hand had come into his powers over the years. He was the unofficial second of their little pack and a warrior through and through.

That being said, they both couldn't stand the thought of being left behind. Not only because dealing with the aftermath would be horrible, but also because they were the only pack they had left and losing that last pack bond, felt impossible to do. So, they had Deaton anchor their spell. All in all, it had taken weeks of planning to get to this point and they wouldn't fuck this up now.

Sliding into the booth of the diner he breathes a sigh of relief and sees that Lydia starts to relax, too. Thank fuck. The two of them needed a break.

The waitress stared a little at them but that's normal, in a little town like BH he looked like a shady dude, when he didn't hide his tattoos, which he couldn't. At least not at the moment, because the time travel spell had literally knocked the spark out for what he guesttimated would be another few hours. "I'm going full on double cheeseburger, extra gravy, curly fries and a salad on the side." He told her with a warm smile. Lydia on the other hand gave her an icy glare, looks like she didn't appreciate the look the waitress was giving him. Bless her heart.  
"I take a classic, salad on the side and a pitcher of water for the two of us."

Lydia's concentration was now back on him. "Your tattoos are a work of art, I should know, I designed a lot of them."

That she did, and she was right, his tattoos looked amazing. Charms, sigils and runes for everything from healing and strengthening to protecting and amplifying were webbed into a mad design. Everything flowed in a beautiful symmetry, perfectly mirroring the other side of his body. It started at the back of his neck and extended over his shoulder to his chest over his stomach and followed his hip bones, down his legs. It also extended from his neck down his back and both arms were fully wrapped in a breathtakingly intricate geometric design, that hid the powerful spells that lay within. The properties that had been added to the ink, that made them suitable to carry his magic, had turned the ink into a very unusual light grey tone. People in his timeline complimented them all the fucking time. The only bad thing about them was that they drew attention which is why he added another tattoo that could, if activated, hide the others, or just a few of them. Depending on what he needed. If he wanted to activate them, the spark started to shimmer through, which made them shimmer golden. Either way, there was no point in hiding the ones, they were going to need on a regular basis.

"I don't care what she thinks. I just realized that I'll be drawing a lot of attention to us, a new guy with a shitload of tattoos will be noticed in a small town like BH. I'm going to have to spell the ones we don't need all the time as soon as possible."

"Yeah that's probably a good idea, at least the ones on the back of your neck and on your forearms. Nobody will see the legs and we'll pick up some clothing that will hide the rest, soon. But first we need to check the date, then we can hunt in the newspaper for accommodations, after that we're going shopping."

While working through the beast of a meal Lydia checked the newspaper for accommodations. The date was the 12th April 2006, which meant Derek was still 17 and the Hale fire hadn't happened yet.  
"Holy shit. It really worked. I mean logically I understand that this is what we've been working towards for the past four months, but this is… this is just sick."  
"We have two months to prevent the tragedy that started this whole clusterfuck. Oh, look Stiles, this would be perfect."

He looked at the description of a little flat in downtown BH, close enough to both the preserve and the school. Inconspicuous enough.

"Sounds good. We'll call as soon as we set the phones up. God this is going to be a lot of walking. We also need to set up bank accounts and all that jazz. Do you have our papers?"

Lydia pulled a blue folder from her beast of a purse. In it were the two carefully drafted identities of Lydia and Mieczyslaw Stillinski. They couldn't very well lie to the werewolves every time they told them their first names. So, they decided to go with the real ones. They also decided to go into this as a 'married couple' because they'd be spending all their time together, living together and do the usual pack-stuff, which translated into some form or another of constant touching. They also needed to be able to accompany the other to the ER if something were to happen, which wasn't a far-fetched probability considering they needed to stop a rouge serial-killer-arsonist-hunter. Not to mention that they didn't want to draw attention to themselves by explaining they weren't in a relationship every time somebody assumes and people would definetly assume. Anyway, he would continue to encourage people to call him Stiles, there was little to no chance that he'd cross his eleven-year-old counterpart and he wouldn't let himself be caught by his dad. He knew better than that. But even if he was going to get caught, he'd be going into it as Claudia's long-lost brother who shared his name with their dad. They'd both decided that he'd tell him that his sister had been in contact with him and actively tried to convince them to come visit her in BH, so that she could meet his new wife Lydia.

Man, this would have been his dream a few years ago. Lydia and him on an adventure, trusting each other, giving people that look at them weirdly the stink eye for each other, sleeping in the same bed, cuddling, laughing together, just them against the world. But he wasn't a delusional fifteen-year-old anymore. He was nineteen and had found a valuable friend in Lydia.

They'd been the only sane humans in the pack for the past three years and that alone had given them enough to bond over for a lifetime. She was also still in love with Jackson and Stiles decided to have some fun after things broke off with Malia. He was very aware of his bisexuality and had recently started this flirt-fight-we-have-no-idea-what-we're-doing-kind-of-thing with Derek, which had been fun. So, going in as a married couple was playing it safe. They wouldn't fuck around in the past, anyway. Not literally.

After they'd set up their joint bank account and deposited the fourty thousand dollars in cash (thank you feral Derek, you shouldn't have), they bought a black old audi 200. It was a little beat up, but not so much that it would attract attention. Just enough to make it look used, which was exactly what they were going for. It was the perfect surveillance car, also it looked kinda cool and was cheap enough.

So far, they'd been fairly successful with their plan, now they only needed to get the flat, and they'd be good to commence to part two. Introducing themselves as magical beings to the Hales.  
After a restless night in the car and an even more horrible day at the mall, which Lydia spent in bemoaning the horrible fashion of 2006, they were ready to face their new landlord and hopefully get the flat. Stiles wore a pair of Skinny Jeans and a fitted blue Button down with rolled up sleeves and a pair of dark red chucks, as per Lydia's instructions. She wore her summer dress like an armor as they went up the stairs after their landlord.

It was an open loft, with a big kitchen, a leather couch and a big bed already in it. Nice.

"Look you seem like a nice couple and the paperwork looks good. I'm just looking to sublet this place for the next year. You can use the appliances, if you break something, replace it, total rent is 600$ a month, however I'll need 1800$ in cash upfront. You'll get the money back if you move out and didn't trash the place."

There was a moment of silence, they had been prepared to answer a lot of questions about themselves, rehearsing how long they'd been together, what their plan for BH was etcetera etcetera. This turn of events was refreshing to say the least.

"We'll take it, where do I sign?" he asked with a friendly smile.

"Right here. You'll get the keys as soon as you pay me."

"That won't be a problem." Lydia said, as she pulled out her purse and started counting until she got to 1800$. The guy looked a little surprised but was ultimately very happy.

After sorting the rest out, he left with a friendly reminder that if they ever needed anything they could call, and it was done.

The set up in BH had been completed.

Stiles let out a breath of relief as he let himself fall onto the big bed. "Move over." Sigh. "So bossy."

They fell asleep curled up in each other. They'd been stressed out about this the whole time. They decided early on that depending only on the Hale Pack for support and expecting them to believe that they'd been time traveling wouldn't do. They'd introduce themselves as a banshee and a spark and ask for an alliance.

It would have been great if that could have been the end of the day and they'd just woken up the next day feeling refreshed and ready to go, but of course they only managed to get four hours of sleep, waking up starving and thirsty as fuck. What even.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The pasta isle is where the shit's at.

"Lydia, we need to do the food shop. I mean as much as I'd love to just order a pizza and ignore the outside world for another few hours, giving you and me a well-deserved break, I just don't think we can put it off for much longer, we need to mingle and get as much info on everyone as possible. Also, I'm craving a salad like crazy. Forcing my dad into a well-balanced diet really did a number on my ability to sustain myself on greasy carbs only."

"No, you're right, after the last days of Burgers, buttery Pancakes, Pizza and Pie, I think I'd rather starve than eat anything remotely greasy right now. Also, as a side not, since you're the one of us, who is 'officially' 21, you're going to buy us booze."

"Lydia, are you suggesting we celebrate our immaculate performance as Mr. and Mrs. Stillinski, with booze and movies?"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting. We've been high strung the past weeks with the preparations and now, that we're here and mastered the first few hurdles of this whole shit show, I'm thinking we deserve a nice evening."

"You're right. We can worry about life tomorrow. Also, on a side note, I don't think I'll ever be susceptible to what we thought of as a 'hangover', before our ordeal, ever again. Let's get us something nice."

Lydia suddenly had a stern expression on her face, one that Stiles recognized as calculating, "I'm thinking Tequila."

He snorted. "That's why I fake married you."

The supermarket turned out to be the first real hurdle for the both of them. Stiles could feel the curious glances. Suffice to say, they didn't sooth his frazzled nerves and his state of hypervigilance in the least. He didn't enjoy the whole center of attention gig and Lydia wasn't doing much better.

Not being recognized by people that had watched them grow up, was weird. It took a lot to push down the feelings of familiarity, which led to nervous smiles and forced feeling small talk. It was all they had in them.

He had to physically hold Lydia back from rushing towards a younger version of her dad, who had a much too young blonde on his arm. Obviously cheating on her mom. After that she looked exasperated and mumbled something about going to search for the good stuff, while he continued the food shop.

Just when Stiles rounded the corner to look for the whole wheat pasta, he noticed that someone had followed him. He slowly, deliberately turned towards the products on display, to lure them in. As he made to pick up something from the bottom he chanced a careful glance over his shoulder to see that none other than Derek Hale stared at him.

Openly, in full on creeper mode. Seeing the physical difference between himself and the guy he had literally looked up to, most of his teenage years, hit him harder than he expected. He was smaller than the Derek he knew, both in height and in muscle tone.

At some point in the last year Stiles had hit another growth spurt, which combined with the constant training and fighting-for-his-life-gig he had going on, changed him. The well-defined muscles and all the tattoos, had been a byproduct of his lifestyle. But being physically bigger and definitely stronger than this version Derek, left him feeling protective of him. In this time, he was the grown up. Weird. Had Derek felt this way towards him, when he had been younger? Thinking back, he realized that the answer to that was probably, yes.

The one thing that instantly gave Derek away, was the way he held himself and the pointed way he aggressively stared him down with his judgmental eyebrows. That was just so him.

Breaking himself out of his thought-process, before the situation got weirder (because at this point he was also staring right back at him, from his crouched position in front of the whole wheat pasta section) he decided to face the music. Stiles cleared his throat as he stood up and straightened his back. "Do you need anything?"

Jesus Fuck, Derek had the galls to look surprised. The tips of his ears turned red and he spluttered, then shrugged it away, trying for blasé. "I'm waiting for someone."

Cocking an eyebrow, he just asked "In the pasta isle?"

Teenage Derek actually fidgeted, holy shit.

"Yes."

Oh God, now he just looked guilty. He was either going to make a drug deal or meet Kate.

Great. He'd have to ruin his … whatever the teenager was going to do in the pasta isle.  
Thinking about it they were probably using this isle as means of exchanging information. Kate wouldn't give him a phone number that could be traced back to her, right of the bat. She had to be 22 at least. Her being in the supermarket around the same time as a teenager could be hardly used against her. This was clever.

Jesus. He was going to have to verbally steamroll over Derek and annoy him into leaving. He knew he could, because he'd done it before. Good times.

He looked blank-faced at him, "Yes well, I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your drug deal. But I'm having a pasta emergency."

"My what?!"

"Dude seriously. You can stare all you want, I'm not finished with the contemplation of which pasta to use."

"What are you even – ". "I used to think Fusilli all the way but what if I missed out because of that. There are so many possibilities to choose from… Can't go wrong with classic Spaghetti, neither, but what about Penne or Rigatoni, am I right?"

Behind a confused Derek who just tried to articulate something akin to "I don't know." A smug Lydia approached, brandishing a Tequila bottle in one hand and a net of limes in the other, as she exclaimed "Guess who's going to get hammered tonight."

"I sure hope you mean me." He says with a wink and continued without missing a beat "Lyds, I'm kind of stuck here, I just can't decide which Pasta to choose, I feel so pressured, knowing that my indecisiveness is stalling the drug overlord of Beacon Hills from exchanging the goods."

That kicked Derek, who had looked wide eyed from Stiles, who was sporting a shit-eating grin to an amused Lydia, into action. "I already told you that I'm not here for drugs. I was just – ". His phone started to ring at that moment. "Crap. Hey mum, yes, I'm still in the grocery store. I know. Yes, I'm, I'm on my way back. Ok. Ok. Yes. Bye." He shot Stiles a death-glare and went to the check out without another word.

God, he wasn't even going to buy anything to camouflage his visit to the supermarket. Young Derek was kind of an idiot. Also, cute.

"So, Stiles…"  
"Yes?"  
"Why are we bullying Derek Hale?"  
"We are not bullying him, Lyds. We need to search this isle, right now." He whispers the last part, all serious, no trace left of the humorous banter, she'd just witnessed seconds before.

"You're thinking he's exchanging information with Kate through this?"  
"I mean she can't very well hunt him down at school every time she wants to talk to him. That would have caught everybody's attention."  
"Let's get to it then. Oh, and by the way?"  
"Yes?"  
"Fusilli all the way."  
With that she turned around and started working through the isle.  
They didn't need to search long, behind the stacked pasta sauces they found a little piece of paper, that smelled heavily of a much too sweet perfume.

 _Hello Derder,_

 _To answer your question, no, I don't mind the age difference, I know you are a mature adult, but everyone else will judge us. If you really want there to be an us, you'll have to keep hiding this. Your family won't understand. Do you want them to keep us apart? Derder, I know we'll be so good together. I understand you, you're not who everyone else thinks you are. You are special. I can see that. I hope you realize that what we have is special, how rare what we have is, and why we can't risk it by telling people, who wouldn't understand._

 _Of course, I'm also sad that we have to communicate this way. But since you've been good about not telling, I'll give you a phone number. You can contact me with it. XXXX-XXXXXXX If you keep being good, I'll give you a new present next time. xoxx_

Stiles watched as Lydia pulled out her phone and started saving the number.

"If we keep the note, he'll know. It could also alarm her, that something is going on."

"Lyds, we can't leave it here, it will take significantly longer for him to contact her about not getting her little note, when we just take it."

"So, we're taking it. What are you thinking? Should we catfish her?"

"I don't know yet. But whatever we decide, we have to do it fast, before Derek can blow our cover, by contacting her per carrier-pigeon or cheese isle or whatever."

"Good thinking, grab the Fusilli we're going." She really wanted those Fusilli. Bless her heart.

They contemplated their plan of action on their way home.

"Stiles, I say we contact her."

"We could really easily fuck this up, Lyds. What if she gets suspicious and decides she can't risk waiting any longer."

"Yes, I'm well aware that that could happen. However, I really can't stand the thought of letting this manipulative bitch anywhere near Derek. I can't just watch it unfold. Besides, this is a younger much more inexperienced Kate. We're highly trained and we know what's going to happen. You're a spark for fucks sake. Deaton himself told you that a spark hasn't been around in forever. She can't possibly plan for that. We are not going to walk on eggshells in this. If push comes to shove, we're going to tell the Hale family who we are and what we're here to do and have them help us obliterate Kate fucking Argent like the bitch from hell she is. Life has presented us with the beautiful opportunity of fucking her over. Please tell me we're going to use this."

"I'd rather just kill her."

"We have no idea where she is. Maybe you can channel your inner horny teenager and make plans with her. You could meet up at a seedy motel… Get her to tell us where her father is, kill her, kill him next. Something like that."

"This is going to be a lot riskier than I thought. We need to meet the Hales as soon as possible, to introduce us. Tomorrow would be good. If they know who we are and don't see us as a threat, and we're found out, we can always plead our case, as to why we had to kill a hunter on their fucking territory."

They were driving in a contemplative silence for a few minutes.  
"Stiles, when would Derek call Kate?"

"I don't think he'd do it right away. He had to hurry back either way and coming home, his parents probably grilled him, because he didn't buy anything at the supermarket he supposedly went to. So, I'm guessing he'd write her after dinner, when he can excuse himself and be alone in his room, without raising anyone's suspicion. Maybe in two hours?"

"Good. Then we have enough time to put the groceries away, cook and eat something nice, and maybe do a shot or two to take the edge off, before we have to be all serious."

Picking up on her nervousness, he slowly, reassuringly said. "We're going be okay, Lyds. All this stress is going to pay off and even if everything goes to shit, which I really don't believe it will, I still think, we're going to be okay. I'm sure of it."

She sighed, somewhat dejected. "I know. I know. We've faced everything this world threw at us and we came out on top. It's just, we've got this incredible opportunity at changing something and I want this to be the best possible version. I don't want to just survive. I want this to be better. More. Not just solving the problem."

He was just washing the vegetables as Lydia set up the cutting board and knife, pulled out a huge bowl and started cutting up the chicken breast.  
"This is going to work out, Lyds. We'll make sure of it. If it doesn't we're losing our ticket back to the future and we can't have that."

She nodded determined, grasping the spatula a little tighter.

Dinner was nice. They sat together on the big leather couch, and watching Supernatural on the TV, they just aired the second season. After another half an hour, he sighed deeply and sat down at the dinner table, writing down a few ideas as to how they'd open the conversation with Kate.

The nickname 'Derder' made him nervous. Maybe this was her way of making sure she was writing with the right person, maybe he called her Kitkat or something. He snorts at that thought. After contemplating the situation, they both decided to go with Kate. Playing it safe. Now to the message… Three shots later, they decide on a simple

Hey Kate, this is Derek.

Ignoring the nicknames entirely. Just to be safe. He also maybe would have thrown up a little if he had to write 'this is your Derder'.

Hello Derder, I see you got my gift to you. You're such a good boy for me.

Yuck. Lydia is taking over, her cheeks red with anger and disgust.

Always for you. Can we meet anytime soon?

You're so eager for me. I like that, but we can't meet yet.

Why not?

You know you have to proof yourself to me first.

Crap. Lydia looked up panicked, so Stiles takes over. He knows Derek's a sap and he knows Derek would have been a thousand times worse as a teenager.

Yes, I just hoped, we could see each other because I miss you so much.

I miss you too, Derder. If your being good. I'll give you what you need, what you've asked of me. But first you have to prove that your serious about me.

I'm serious about you.

I'll tell you how, soon. You'd do anything for me, wouldn't you? I love you after all.

Gritting his teeth, Stiles gripped the damned phone tighter. Lydia massaged his neck carefully, as he tipped, white-knuckled.

Anything.

So mature, only a real man would promise me that.

"God she's such a creep." Lydia's voice came out strained.  
"What did you expect?"  
"Good point."  
"Stiles?"  
"Yes?"  
"We need to stop her."  
"We will."

He stared at the note from Kate and quickly tipped.

You understand me like no one else. I just… I want to see you, soon.

How soon you'll see me, depends on how good you behave for me. I need to see that you're deserving of my love.

I'll be good, I promise.

He felt disgusting tipping that, Lydia's hands massaged the tension away from his neck as she watched what he tipped over his shoulder.

I text you what I need tomorrow. Proof to me that you can be good and don't text me again until I text you. Can you do that for me?

Anything for you Kate.

They both sighed in relief, when they realized that the conversation was over.

Lydia pressed her face into his neck and rubbed her cheek against the side of his face. It was stunning how much they'd picked up from being in the pack for such a long time and how much they craved the scent marking, the puppy piles, the near-ness of it all. He lightly pressed back against her and put the phone down.

"Tomorrow we'll meet the Hales."

"Tomorrow's Saturday, do you think that's a good idea? Derek's going to be there, probably."

"I think that's an excellent idea. His parents wouldn't let him out, when there are two new supernatural creatures in town that announce their presence, they'd want for him and the rest of the pack, to be on our radar, so we don't act rash towards him. So that we know he is protected."

"That way we can make sure, that he doesn't get a chance to go to the supermarket for the message, or… OH MY GOD."

"What?"

"Give me that note. We'll write another one, press it against the original until the horrible perfume transfers. The one we'll leave for him, will have your number on it, so that he won't know what's going on, for a little while, at least. He writes with us, we write with Kate. We know who's up to what and after writing back and forth with him, we can let him down gently, so that he'll never have to know that Kate was a mass-murdering psycho."

"I resent that."

"I know Stiles. It's not nice. But do we really have the luxury to lose the upper hand in this situation?"

"I don't want to hurt him."

"We're protecting him."

"God, I feel like such an asshole for even considering this."

"I'm getting everything ready, we'll sleep over it. We can always decide tomorrow. When does the supermarket open? 9:30 am?"  
"Yes."  
"Stiles, don't be so hard on yourself for considering this. It's a solid plan."  
"I know." He sighed deeply. "Lyds, I'm going for a run tomorrow morning, want to come with?"  
"Nah, I think I'm sleeping in. Duplicating this message will take me a while."  
Running had always been therapeutic for Stiles. It wasn't hard for him to peel himself out of bed and out of Lydia's octopus-like hold on him. He quickly changed, and before Lydia so much as stirred, he was out of the loft.

He liked to run. The faster, the better. The sound of his feet hitting the asphalt left him feeling centered and powerful. Controlling and maintaining his fast pace with ease, left him feeling reassured in himself. It was a peaceful morning. Shame he had to ruin it by contemplating what he should do about the Derek situation. Protecting Derek was one thing, but he felt horrible thinking about toying with him like that. Did they really have to go that far? Couldn't they protect him, without hurting him with their actions in the process? What if he left a personal note for him? Something along the lines of

 _Hello glary Drug-Overlord,_  
I've found your little message. If you want it back text me XXXX-XXXXXXX. Be prepared to answer my questions.  
-S.

However, he quickly tossed the idea, because he didn't want to be associated with Kate. It wouldn't help anyone if Derek grew up thinking Stiles had killed the love of his life in cold blood. If the Hales suspected him of doing this out of anything other than necessity, he and Lydia could kiss their plans goodbye. They wouldn't be around to help prevent the events that lead to Gerard, the Alpha pack, the Kanima, the Darach, the fucking dread Doctors and the other shit. Crap, the more he thought about it, the clearer it became that this had to be done carefully.

Lydia would kill him. She spent half the night on the message. He knew because she had cursed her way through it. Lividly.

He'd hit the six-mile mark a while back, so he turned around. Crap, it was already 6:45 am. He had to go back. On his way back, he stopped by a little bakery to get Lydia's absolute favorite backed goods and a Vanilla Late with chocolate swirls. Hopefully his little bribe would help soften the blow.

The moment he walked into the loft, Lydia's eyes zeroed in on the bag from her favorite bakery and she groaned.

"Are you serious?"  
"I agree that we should protect him, but… this crosses a line."  
"All's fair in love and war."  
"Lyds, think about our Derek. Really think about him. Can you really tell me that this wouldn't feel like some kind of betrayal?"  
Her eyes widened in realization.

Stiles sighed. "This is one of those situations, where we have to decide, how far is too far. I personally feel like we can't toy with him just because we don't want to take a possible risk. This is unprecedented, because we already had our fingers in this, we can't guarantee what's going to happen anymore. Does the probability that he could run into Kate and talk to her about not getting a message really justify us making a fool out of him? This is our chance to make this right, make this into the best possible outcome, but we can't take all of his choices away from him and manipulate him. Let's just keep an eye on him and intercept or disrupt his attempts at contacting her."

"Damn." Lydia slumped against the leather couch. "You're right, I really wouldn't feel comfortable doing this to Derek. I just, I want this to work without him being hurt, too badly."

He cringed at that. God, he felt like such an asshole thinking about what he was going to say next.

"Lydia, it's still a valuable lesson for him. He trusted manipulative, advantage taking, psycho Kate over his family. He needs to still make his own choices and we need to allow him to learn from them. We'll protect the Hales, either way. I'll ward the place like there's no tomorrow. We'll keep an eye on the situation and we'll stop Kate one way or another. Either we find her before and take care of her or we take her out when she tries to set the Hales on fire."

Lydia sipped at her Vanilla Latte and started to nibble on a chocolate croissant. "I know you're right. If he doesn't learn from Kate, there's a good chance he'll repeat the mistake at a later point, because we didn't let him learn from it. We can't plan for that either, because it will be in a future we don't know."

They looked at each other for a long moment. When Lydia squared her shoulder's and fixated him with piercing eyes. "Stiles, we're going to be okay."

He smiled at her, then. Feeling incredibly relieved and light. "We're really lucky." He left the 'to have each other' unsaid.  
She understood either way and squeezed his hand, lightly. "Thank you for questioning me on this."

He smiled and squeezed back. "I'm going to take a quick shower, do you still want us to go to the supermarket, to make sure Derek didn't leave anything for Kate?"

"Yes, but we still have some time before I need to start getting ready. I'll get started on breakfast."

"I'll help in a few."

Breakfast was easy. They made scrambled eggs and bacon and chopped up some fresh fruit to accompany the baked goods. After that Lydia carefully picked their outfits while he got started on washing the dishes.

A few minutes later she walked towards the kitchen with a little mirror, sat herself on the kitchen counter, and did her make up. The easy silence was a tribute to their friendship.

They arrived at the supermarket, a few minutes after it opened. They didn't want to run into Derek if he decided to search for the message, or leave one of his own, first thing in the morning. A quick search of the pasta aisle, revealed that their worries had been unfounded. There wasn't a message to be found.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Peaceful times come at a price.

Dereks POV

Derek's day had been, hands down, horrible. After rushing home from basketball training and quickly and admittedly half-heartedly through his homework, he had the grocery trip discussion. He had to seriously work on his parents to convince them, that he could manage a last-minute trip to the grocery store, and still get back for dinner. Pack dinners were a big deal in his family and rarely missed, if at all.

Which lost him another ten minutes, he could have maybe spent with Kate. Even if she wouldn't let him touch her or talk to her directly. She did it because she didn't want to risk what they had. He knew. It felt wrong to keep this from his alpha either way. Even if the thought of sneaking around and having something to hide made him feel smug. The girls at school were nowhere near as interesting as Kate. She was so hot and nice and actually interested in him and what he was talking about. He always felt this distance with everybody else. He knew it stemmed from the fact, that he had to hide what he and his family were. On the other hand, having a secret, he could share with someone outside of his family felt liberating. Like it somehow isolated him less.

The moment he stepped into the grocery store he noticed him. The guy looked absolutely out of place next to the fresh produce. He had light brown hair, pale skin that was scattered in freckles, a cheeky grin on his face and looked just ridiculously hot. He had known he was bisexual for some time now, but he'd never felt this attracted to a stranger before. All of his senses agreed, that yes, he'd tap that. He followed him to the pasta isle, which was coincidently the isle he and Kate used to exchange their little notes. She agreed that she'd give him a number, he could use to contact her with, soon.

Right now, he was at a loss. The guy stared at the pasta section, like it was a mystery waiting to be solved. After the guy had crouched down, his shirt that had already been pulled taut over his muscles, had risen a little and granted him glimpse of grey geometric lines and patterns. Tattoos. By the looks of it a lot. However, before he could contemplate further what he had seen, he was pulled out of his stupor, by mystery guy asking, "Do you need anything?"

Holy shit. This was weird. He'd stared at the guys hip for like a minute. This was embarrassing, he couldn't leave, Kate's note was still there, and she had told him before that she didn't like him taking too long to collect them. He finally managed to regain his composure and answered, "I'm waiting for someone."

The dude just cocked an eyebrow. God he was cool. "In the pasta isle?"

"Yes."

Now he seemed kind of stressed, "Yes well, I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your drug deal. But I'm having a pasta emergency."

"My what?!" Was this guy serious? Never mind his inability to actually get anything out of drugs, he didn't look shady. Not in the least.

"Dude seriously. You can stare all you want, I'm not finished with the contemplation of which pasta to use." They guy now looked kind of pissed actually. At least he hadn't caught him checking him out. "What are you even – ". "I used to think Fusilli all the way but what if I missed out because of that. There are so many possibilities to choose from… Can't go wrong with classic Spaghetti, neither, but what about Penne or Rigatoni, am I right?"

The guy steamrolled the fuck over him and before he could even articulate something akin to "I don't know." A smug looking redhead came up next to him, brandishing a Tequila bottle in one hand and a net of limes in the other, while she exclaimed "Guess who's going to get hammered tonight."

He felt an irrational stab of jealousy when the other men replied, "I sure hope you mean me.", with a suggestive wink. The feeling dissipated quickly when he continued without missing a beat "Lyds, I'm kind of stuck here, I just can't decide which Pasta to choose, I feel so pressured, knowing that my indecisiveness is stalling the drug overlord of Beacon Hills from exchanging the goods."

That kicked Derek, who had looked wide eyed from Stiles, who was sporting a shit-eating grin to an amused Lydia, into action. What the fuck was wrong with these people? A Drug-Overlord? Him? What even. "I already told you that I'm not here for drugs. I was just – ". That was when his phone rung, and he saw that the caller ID was his mom. Shit. He'd missed his opportunity and the guy he'd ogled shamelessly had a beautiful girlfriend. Double shit.

He hurried out of the store, thinking about their interaction, which was why he forgot to buy anything. Needless to say, that got him into even more trouble.

That night he came up with a plan. He would tag along tomorrow, on the weekly grocery shop and quickly grab the note. Kate's perfume always guaranteed, that he found the notes fairly quickly.

It was a good plan. She'd never know that he hadn't managed to grab the note this evening. He slept peacefully, knowing that tomorrow would be better.

On the other side of town, Stiles and Lydia were on their way to the Hale House. They both steeled themselves, feeling nervous about the meeting. Lydia chose a beautiful summer dress with a floral print that hugged her body in all the right places. She'd also braided her hair in a way, that looked entirely too complicated, she had kept her make-up natural. She looked well put together, and incredibly confident.

He had gotten into a pair of black skinny jeans and a black vintage band shirt. The soft fabric clung to his muscled physique, the soft black hoodie completed the outfit. It put emphasize on his broad shoulders and most importantly hid all his tattoos. He didn't want to risk needing a spell and then not being able to use it, so he decided to deactivate the rune, that usually hid the ones he wanted to hide. He felt incredibly comfortable in his outfit, which had probably been Lydia's intention. They were after all portraying themselves as a young couple, that wanted to introduce themselves in a casual manner. Not make some kind of business proposal. He had been a little afraid Lydia would demand he put on a suit or some shit like that.

They both had no idea how this was going to work. Every formal pack meeting they ever had, followed the same pattern. Stiles stood by his dad, Chris and Lydia. Derek stood in the middle of the room, Deaton slightly behind him to his left, Scott and Cora between Derek and Stiles to his right and Jackson and Peter stood firmly between whoever requested the pack meeting and the only exit. They always had Isaac and Liam guarded with a notice-me-not spell in the dark corner by the windows as a back-up and positioned Kira by the power control on the far side of the room directly behind Derek. The strategy behind it was simple and it worked like a dream. What it wasn't was traditional. Traditionally the second had to stand next to the Alpha and the humans were ushered into a far-off corner behind the two, while everyone else flanked the newcomers, or something like that. At least that's what that one alpha once said, as he laughed in Derek's face. He didn't laugh for long though, courtesy of Jackson.

Deaton had only given them one useful tip: Only defer to the alpha. They wouldn't have a hard time with that because they pretty much never deferred to anyone in their little ragtag pack. Scott, true alpha or not, couldn't be bothered to give a shit about that kind of stuff and Derek, who was their acting alpha, would rather not pull rank on his own. He considered the bitten werewolves and the few humans family. He only ever did it, when one of the betas lost control, which hadn't happened in a long time. So, deferring to no one except one person once, wasn't really going to be particularly challenging.

As soon as they parked the car, they could see how the curtains were being pulled away inside the house. Seeing the house was a little bit of a shock. It looked beautiful in its own right. It wasn't one of those cookie-cutter-everything-is-new houses. It had nooks and crannies and a beautiful garden, scattered with toys and wild flowers. It looked like a well lived in old home, as it towered slightly above the smaller trees surrounding it's little clearing.

He took a deep breath and gave Lydia what he hoped was a reassuring look, as they both started to exit the car and walked towards the front door of the house.

Once they moved towards the porch, the door sprang open and they were faced with a young, dare he say nervous, Peter, "Who are you and what do you want here?"

Stiles needed a moment to collect himself. He took a deep breath and said in an even voice "We request a meeting with your alpha. We're here to announce our presence in Beacon Hills out of respect to the local pack."

Before Peter could say anything else, a dark haired older woman, with red flashing eyes stood in the door. She pressed "Peter, inside, now." through her teeth, using her alpha voice.

She pulled rank on a member of her pack, her family, in front of strangers. Stiles didn't need to know werewolf etiquette, to know that was a slight against Peter.

He schooled his features and waited for the alpha to make the next move. Lydia however, seemed to have another idea. She stepped forward lowered her eyes intentionally for a moment and smiled friendly and open at Talia Hale. "Hello Mrs. Hale, my husband and I just moved into our new apartment in Beacon Hills and we wanted to introduce ourselves to you."

There were no lies in that. He basically was Lydia's husband. They'd signed the paperwork and everything. Since she said they just moved into their new apartment and not to Beacon Hills, everything rang true. Stiles was impressed.

When Talia looked at him next, he moved his neck to the side, slightly baring his throat. The bigger threat had to make the stronger gesture, that was customary. After that the mood changed fairly quickly.

Talia's eyes turned into a warm hazel-color and she smiled friendly, "My name is Talia Hale. I'm the Alpha responsible for Beacon County. You're right, that you have to announce your presence, if you intend to live in my territory, but I don't particularly care for people who show up uninvited at my house. Even less so, when they appear to be just human."

Ignoring the condescending attitude, he kept his face open, not willing to let her know how underwhelmed he was by her overall performance. It didn't help that he was still judging her for what happened to the Derek in his timeline. This was too important.

Lydia's smile never wavered when she said, "We've been in Beacon Hills for the last couple of days and no one approached us, which is why we wanted to meet with you. The last years have been very challenging for us and we hoped that we could start over here. Us not approaching you, could have been viewed as a slight."

She sighed at that. "If every human that moves to Beacon County and has some miniscule connection to something supernatural, would come to my house and request a formal discussion, I'd never be able to get anything done."

Lydia's smile twitched slightly, and Stiles sighed in resignation. He couldn't let his personal feelings for her get in the way of what needed to be done. Also, Lydia had been a trooper. He should take over now.

"Mrs. Hale, we're here today, because we need to be, not because we want to. We are interested in an alliance. I am sorry we inconvenienced you. However, we really think that we could both benefit from this."

Talia laughed at that, "You're human. How are we going to benefit from any of this? It looks more like you are the ones that need protection."

"Well, we're mostly human. I think? It never really mattered before. Anyway, we're not here to ask for your protection."

Lydia gave him a look. He didn't feel good about telling Talia what he was. Not in the open anyway, with a whole house of people he didn't know and couldn't place listening in.

"I can see that we've put you in an uncomfortable position. We could arrange another meeting? One further away from your home, if that's more comfortable for you. It would be optimal if we could meet those who'll know and keep our secret. If we'd tell you what we are now, we would be sharing that information with a house full of strangers. It's nothing personal, we just had some bad experiences."

Talia looked at them thoughtfully. Their scent was human, and she's met enough people who had been self-entitled, arrogant idiots, that talked her ear off, which was why she'd taken to trying to scare them off. You can only listen to so many half-fairies, going on about what an important pillar of the community they were and that they'd help, if she, the fucking alpha, ever needed them. However, the man before her behaved strangely. He had not once been afraid, he'd looked to his wife reassuringly a few times and he hadn't let her mocking affect him. He held himself with a calm, calculating confidence that was not something that she's ever seen in such a young man.

"Bad experiences?"

The girl, Lydia answered this time, she eyed her husband for a second, before talking. "As I said, we had a rough couple of years. One of our more memorable ones, were with rouge hunters. We like to be sure that our trust is well deserved."

At the mention of the hunters the scent of the man changed into utter primal disdain, which his face didn't betray. Curious. That level of self-control is not something you could see often.

She looked at them both empathetically. "We don't have hunters in Beacon Hills." She assured.

The man didn't say anything about that. He just looked at her. The girl, Lydia, however winced. "We would like to believe that."

She sighed. They didn't. Whatever happened to these kids, it had been bad enough that they decided to implore the local alpha of the county for a pack meeting, before giving up any real personal information. They even witnessed her using her alpha voice and stood through her mockery and they still had no intention of letting it go. Hell, the guy basically told her, they could come back later. She couldn't help herself, she smiled at them.

"You have to excuse my rude behavior, I don't harbor any ill intent towards human, there are a few in my pack. We've just been getting a lot of requests lately. I had hoped I could discourage you, as I did the others. If we would just let anybody speak before us, we'd have a lot of feral omegas, roam around these woods."

Stiles could respect that. He had done a lot more than being unwelcoming to protect his pack. He shrugged, nodded and said, "No hard feelings."

Talia's smiled even wider now, she looked positively wolfish when she nodded and said

"Alright, I assume everyone heard? … No, we're not having this meeting on the porch. … I don't care. It was your decision to stay up late. … Get in the living room! … Because I said so."

The sight of Talia arguing with her children left them feeling sad. This was so weirdly domestic. Lydia leaned back against him, as they watched Talia move back inside the house.

Looking up, they saw that Talia gestured for them to follow her into the house.

Walking into the Hale's living room was not an intimidating experience. It really wasn't. The impromptu 'pack meeting' had ripped people away from the thing they had been doing up until now, which resulted in a lot of people wearing pajamas and finishing the last of their breakfast or morning coffee, as they sat in a half circle to leave room for the newcomers.

Kids were playing on the ground, there were two babies, one in the arms of a beautiful blonde woman, with a messy bun and a tired face, the other asleep on a somewhat aggravating looking Peter Hale. There were a lot of people in that living room. Aunts and Uncles, Cousins, some people were his age, others were older, Derek and Cora were the only ones he recognized right away. Cora leaned against an elderly woman, who let her fingers slide through her hair. Derek sat there grumpily, with his tousled hair, flannel pajama bottoms and an oversized shirt and stared at them. Legit stared, the whole shebang, wide eyed, with pink ears and a look of horror that translated into his body language. Great.

Suffice to say, the scene hit him like a freight train. Peter Hale holding a baby. All the kids and adults sitting easily together, just letting him and Lydia into the heart of their home. Before they even told them what they were. God, taking in the room he quickly realized that the only other person, aside from them and Talia Hale, that stood freely and would be able to move to either help or attack was probably her grandpa. The dude looked like he was pushing eighty, fast.

This felt insane. How could they trust them so easily? When they'd come up with their set-up for the pack meetings, there had never once been the thought tossed around, 'Just sit where ever, dude.' 'Grab a baby while you're at it.' 'I don't have a baby available, can I bring my pet goldfish instead?' 'Half asleep? Me too, bro.' 'Do you know what today is? It's bring-your-grandparents-to-work-day, bitches.' 'Yeah dude, then we'll have seniority over the other packs and shit.'

It's not like they didn't trust in their ability to protect their own, it's just that they'd never put themselves in a position, in which they'd be this vulnerable. Even if they were just 'human', he'd seen enough humans do horrifying things. God. Peaceful times made people fucking stupid.

His emotional turmoil must have translated into his scent because everyone in the room was now staring at him.

He felt his heart pounding fast and Lydia tightened her grip on him in a way that could have been seen as reassuring, but he'd bet she also struggled with the ease, with which they'd been trusted or maybe she noticed the geriatric security system. What even.

There was no point in pretending, because everyone clearly smelled that something was up. "Sorry. Trust issues." He elaborated, while trying to keep his expression blank.

"What do you mean by that?" Talia looked at him imploringly.

"He means, that if we had ever trusted so easily, we would have been dead a long time ago." Lydia's voice cut through the silence like a knife.

Yep, definitely struggling. However, this line of conversation wasn't what they'd planned and well, quite frankly, it wouldn't do anybody any good if Lydia decided everybody needs a lecture on common sense. They wanted their trust, not their exasperation.

He rubbed small circles on her arm, trying to reassure her. "Lydia, it's fine."

She blinks at him furiously. "Tell that to yourself, I'm not the one, who looks like I'm about to rip my hair out."

Stiles struggled with himself after that, because he'd really fallen in love with the comeback 'No, more like a throat or two.', but he also knew that there was no way he could say that in this situation. Being quick-witted was his curse. Oh well.

He carefully pried her hand off him and pulled her into a hug. There was an indignant noise coming from where he pressed her against his chest. "I'm not sad you idiot, I'm mad." He lets his arms fall to his sides (because he could respect boundaries, thank you very much). However, Lydia was now death-grip-hugging him, pressing her face into his chest. He snorted at that, only to receive a muffled, but somehow still fierce, "Shut up."

The whole room had watched their little interaction. Talia looked like she wanted to hug them both, which was decidedly not helping. He gave her a curt nod, "Right. PTSD, it happens. Anyway, could we…" He turned his head towards the front door and back at Talia. "for a moment? I think we could use some fresh air."

She nodded. "Of course."

Not even bothering to pry Lydia off, he just motioned towards the door, letting her press herself against him while he carefully navigated them both outside.

Ones they got away from curious looks. She started shaking her head as she looked up at him. There was raw anger in her eyes. "Every bad thing…" she struggled to convey what she was feeling, knowing, that the pack was still listening.

But he understood. Every bad thing they'd gone through, they paid dearly for, it made them hard, suspicious, hypervigilant, had ripped away their friends and loved ones one by one…. Every bad thing that brought them to this point, had started here. With these easy trusting, chilled out people, who didn't bother keeping tabs on the hunters in town.

Hell, they had no idea, a banshee and a spark had time travelled back. That spell must have left some kind of whiplash of something. Never mind the fact, that these people had a pack meeting with two strangers, in their fucking pajamas, with their kids present. It was hard for them not to judge. It would be even harder to convince them of turning their living room get together into some kind of war council. It wasn't like they had any incentive. Peaceful times, man.

"Lyds, that's why we're here and why we're doing this. Being carefree is not a fucking sin." He whispered calmly, knowing that they'd probably heard half of what was being said, but he didn't care. He had to calm her and himself the fuck down.

"It was for us!" she whisper-screamed. "They brought babies to a meeting with two random strangers. I love you, but you look seriously shady when you blank-face people, Stiles."

He snorted. "Jesus Lydia, tell me how you really feel."

She loosened her grip on him slightly and took a deep breath, before looking back to the house.

"I think we should go back in."

He nodded.

Going back inside was super awkward. They'd definitely listened in, which was evident by the lack of babies and children and a very tense atmosphere. The adults and teens were now somewhat skeptical of them, which he couldn't really blame them for. The way everyone was still sprawled out all over the place, eating breakfast and what not, gave him a little hope that they didn't completely lose their trust.

One look at Lydia made it clear that he'd do the talking this time.

"So, I'm Stiles Stillinski, this is my wife Lydia. We've been hunted for what we are before, so let me keep this short and sweet, we don't appreciate it if our secret is shared without prior consent from us." He looked around the room, making eye contact with everyone present, at last his eyes rested on Derek, Kate couldn't find out about him and Lydia so he put everything into an extra stern look for him. Convinced he had their attention, he continued, "I'm a spark, she's a banshee. We're both trained in what we do, which would be setting wards for me, and predicting death for her. Someone recently pointed out to me, that I can come across as shady." He stared long and hard at Lydia, who was back at the clawing at his arm business. "I'm not. In fact, to proof my good intentions, I'd like to ward your house and extended property against evil. If you have an emissary you trust, I'd be more than willing to show him what kind of wards I have in mind and he can draw them, while I power them, either way the offer stands." He congratulated himself on his new strategy: wrap this up, fast. Keep it light. They didn't have to be depressing all the time.

"You believe you're a spark?"

Talia Hale was not someone who took lightly to being insulted. Having her competence questioned by the banshee had been hard enough, but now she was supposed to believe that this young man was a spark? Even though she knew there hadn't been one in California in the last ten years.

"I'm a spark." His heartbeat was nice and steady. The girl's heartbeat however got faster by the second. "Stiles she wants you to proof it."

"Yes, in fact I'd like to see why you'd think that you are a spark, when the last documented sighting of one was over seven years ago."

Stiles sighed. He slowly pulled away the hoodie, but before he could throw it on the table or on a chair, Lydia snagged it and pulled it over herself. She must be feeling extremely uncomfortable, if she resorted to public hoodie stealing.

Everyone looked at the tattoos first and at the bloody crescent marks Lydia's nails had left on his forearm, second.

A very apologetic "Sorry." was mumbled into his sweater. He prodded the marks, "Don't get cute with me. The last time someone told us to demonstrate, you went for the knife block, this is like the fluff version." Stiles didn't need her feeling worse for something as inane as this. She seemed especially on edge, so he decided she could do with some distraction, plus that story was sure to get a rise out of her.

Everybody stared at Lydia in shook. Lydia however just looked at her nails. "I remember you asking me to make it dramatic." He smiled. It worked.

The tattoo on his chest, right above his heart started to glow golden, it could be seen through the shirt and moments later, the wound on his arm disappeared.

"Yeah and I regret nothing, the look on his face, was pretty hilarious. However, the blood was a bitch to get out, so next time please don't go for the throat."

"She stabbed you in the throat?" Peter stared alarmed at Lydia, petite, pristine Lydia, who looked absolutely adorable in his hoodie.

Lydia leveled him with a very defensive look. "He moved around too much."

Stiles snorted again. "Yeah, it was almost like I was trying not to get stabbed."

The beautiful blonde, sans baby, giggled. The truth was that it hadn't been that bad and honestly, he was being a little over dramatic, but the room could do with some snark, light banter, anything really that wasn't adding to the depressing. God, it said a lot about him, that he categorized that one time one of his closest friends stabbed him in the throat on accident as fun times. Jesus fucking Christ.

Since nobody acknowledged his awesome glowing-tattoo-healing-scratch-marks-spark-mojo, he started his next 'trick', which was a ball of light, that continuously dispersed into smaller ones, and he kept it going until the whole room was filled with shimmering little circles of light that floated, wherever. The runes in the tattoo at the back of his neck and another two on his right arm, shimmered golden.

Lydia blushed slightly, "I was trying to slightly cut your shoulder, since that was the only place where your skin was visible, because of that ridiculous sweater." He remembered. He had fucking loved that sweater. She huffed indignantly. "You started to flail, and I slipped." Now she was watching him pointedly, arms crossed over her chest. "Every time you tell the story, you make it sound like I was trying to straight up murder you in cold blood. Also, you would have absolutely been able to stop me." "Yeah well, evidently, adrenaline-riddled-me would rather take a knife to the throat, then punch you in the face. Go figure."

"Jesus Fucking Christ. That's just unhealthy, you need to check up on that."

"Language!" Even if Talia Hale, was impressed with the display of power, there would be no cursing in front of her.

"Sorry." Lydia had the galls to look guilty. She probably thought about the kids that could very well hear her from everywhere in the house. The light balls continued to disperse and flowed freely into the garden.

He looked expectantly at Talia, "So where do you want those wards?"


End file.
